


Bloodlust

by Philosoferre



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7984708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosoferre/pseuds/Philosoferre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre nodded and turned the clipboard around so that Grantaire could see the paper on it. There was a picture of the body, lying lifeless on the ground, and the two holes on the neck were clearly visible. Combeferre pointed to them with the tip of his pen.</p>
<p>“Did you do these?”</p>
<p>Grantaire stared at the picture before nodding. Combeferre turned the clipboard back to him and wrote something down. He looked back up.</p>
<p>“How did you cause them?”</p>
<p>Grantaire was positive that Combeferre already knew the answer- he just wanted to hear it from the man himself.</p>
<p>“I bit him.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Most of the time, it wasn’t too difficult for Grantaire to keep his vampiric instincts at bay. Eponine always made sure their fridge was stocked with those packages of frozen blood you could get at the pet store, and he had enough self-control to ignore the desirable scent of blood constantly in the air, or the rapid drumming of human hearts playing over and over in his head.

But there were some days when it got to be too much.

This was one of those days.

It always happened when Grantaire was drunk- when he basically had no self-control, and the smell of blood was incredibly appetizing, and the hammering of hearts was louder than ever. To be fair, most of the time he could control himself. He had morals, and feasting on some poor soul at a local bar just didn’t feel quite right…ethically speaking. Besides, if he killed someone and drank all their blood inside the establishment, he’d probably never be allowed back in. Which was a big problem, considering that drinking was a part of Grantaire’s daily routine.

However, today was a completely different story. 

Enjolras had been incredibly rude, brash and cold at the Les Amis meeting that night, which wasn’t exactly anything new, to be honest. He had called Grantaire every hurtful name thinkable, and some more that might not have been actual words. He had publicly called him out for his cynicism, his weirdness, lack of faith, laziness, unreliability and overall worthlessness. You’re useless, Grantaire. An abomination on the face of France, on the face of the Earth. You’re a miserable, pathetic, downright horrible wretch. You’re not even worthy of charity, you know that? You’ve got no soul, no heart…no use to live. Get out. I don’t need a constant reminder of all the bad things in this world.

And maybe, Enjolras was right. Grantaire was an abomination- he literally vacuumed up frozen (OK, well, he microwaved it) animal blood from the pet store on a daily basis. He was an embodiment of all the bad things in the world- murder, greed, theft. He was pathetic- resorting to microwaveable packages of blood intended for pet reptiles instead of acknowledging his primordial nature. But he has morals, and seriously, what kind of vampire had morals? The pathetic kind.

And maybe Enjolras wasn’t entirely wrong when he said that Grantaire didn’t have a heart or a soul- vampires technically didn’t have souls, right? And why would they need a heart if they had no blood in their veins?

And so, the conclusion of his contemplation about what Enjolras had said was that he was, ultimately, correct. And that tiny confession that maybe, just maybe, he really was an awful person (not human, that’s for sure) led him to get incredibly drunk at the Corinth.

“R! R, why are you here?” 

Grantaire looked up, inhaling the distinct scent of Eponine Thenardier. Her voice was loud, like thunder, and her heart beat like a chorus of marching band drums. Grantaire could hear- smell- her blood coursing through her veins. It was enticing, but he tried not to dwell on that.

“Fuck off,” He mumbled.

He looked down at his nearly-empty glass and felt Eponine’s presence right beside him. She reached a hand out, but suddenly drew it back. She knew better than to console Grantaire when he was drunk.

“I’m not going to do that. You’re drunk, and hurt.”

“Get away, Eponine. I’m not asking again.”

Something changed in the way her heart was beating. Instead of increasing, it was growing steadier by the second. Grantaire looked up at her, biting his lip to keep himself from attacking her right then and there.

“You can smell my blood, can’t you?” She asked, voice soft.

“You already know the answer to that question.”

“And it’s enticing, isn’t it?”

“I’d rather not dwell on the fact that I feel like drinking the blood of my best friend, thank you very much.”

“How much have you had already?”

She gestured to the glass in Grantaire’s hands with an expression of concern.

“Not a lot,” He grumbled.

“How much?”

It was a command this time.

“Five,” He whispered.

Eponine frowned at the glass, but didn’t say anything on the matter. She lightly slammed her palm down on the bar and sighed.

“Well, what’s done is done.”

She started getting off the bar stool, but Grantaire reached out for her wrist, his movements quick and graceful.

“Where the hell are you going?”

Eponine looked at his hand on her wrist and swallowed. Grantaire could tell she was slightly afraid. Fearless Eponine was afraid of him.

“I have to make sure Gav didn’t get in any trouble.”

She was lying, and Grantaire could sense it. She knew he could sense it. He did nothing to stop her, only let go of her wrist and slumped back against the bar, watching her silently make her way towards the entrance. Grantaire turned back to face his drink and sighed. Eponine knew how much he needed her, how much he needed an intervention right now. And yet she blatantly lied to his face. 

He finished his drink and ordered two more.

-

It didn’t take too long for the effects to wear in. After his sixth- no, seventh- drink, Grantaire felt his self-control slowly slipping away. There were so many humans around him- their blood was thick and hot, its scent mixed with alcohol, and their hearts were beating out of sync, out of tune, like a broken music box. It was rather enjoyable- the off-beat chorus of hearts, the different rhythms acting as one strange, yet enticing, song. It was too much to bear, so Grantaire left his current drink unfinished and headed outside through the backdoor. There was an alley behind the Corinth that he was all too familiar with- the dumpsters and the general rotting stench, the criminals and street gangs that hung around there. It was a nice escape from the crowded bar.

After a few minutes of nice solitude, he heard the distinct beating of human hearts from around the corner. He stared at the narrow stretch of street in front of the alley, the scent of blood filling his mind. A trio of young adults appeared, and they walked into the alley, not noticing Grantaire against the exterior of the Corinth. They drew closer, and he did what his instincts told him to. He lunged at the person closest to him, and bit.

-

It all happened in a blur: one of the remaining two people called someone, and soon an ambulance arrived, flashing red, blue and white. The lights were blinding, so Grantaire looked down at the ground, ignoring the chaos around him. Paramedics rushed to the body sprawled on the ground- lifeless, pale, cold to the touch. There were two distinct holes in the dead man’s neck- holes that Grantaire had caused in his sudden burst of bloodlust. Everyone ignored him for a while, and then another vehicle- a black van, he noted- appeared at the scene. Two men came out, holding a restraint vest in their hands. They were making their way to Grantaire, but he didn’t do anything about it. Let them. Let them take him away. He deserved it, after what he had done. Someone asked him if he had done it, if he had killed the man on the ground, and Grantaire nodded numbly. He was put in the restraint vest and then carried away in the back of the van.

He was currently in a small room, sitting in one of the corners, the restraint vest still on him. The walls were all white and reflective- whenever Grantaire looked at them, he didn’t see himself. He saw a monster. There was a rectangular window on the wall opposite him, allowing him to look out into the hallway. He didn’t bother trying to break it. There were two identical chairs in the middle of the room, and a light on the ceiling. Grantaire noticed the little slot in the door, where they’d bring in trays of food he wouldn’t eat. Apart from that, the small room was empty. 

He wondered if this was where they were going to keep him- locked up like a zoo exhibit, or an artifact at a museum. 

Grantaire heard footsteps approaching the door and he perked up. He could heart a heartbeat- calm, steady. He could smell blood, but it only made him sick with himself. The door opened and a man came into the room. He seated himself on one of the chairs and gestured to the second.

“Are you going to stay in the corner?”

Grantaire looked up. He knew that voice.

Combeferre.

But what was he doing-

Oh.

Right.

“No,” He replied quietly.

Neither said another word, and Grantaire silently sat across from Combeferre. He was rather uncomfortable in the restraint vest. Combeferre seemed to notice, so he reached over and unclasped it. Grantaire took it off and laid it down beside the chair.

“What am I doing in a psychiatric hospital?” Grantaire asked.

Combeferre regarded him with a cool expression before gesturing to the clipboard on his lap.

“You killed a man today. How?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

Combeferre nodded and turned the clipboard around so that Grantaire could see the paper on it. There was a picture of the body, lying lifeless on the ground, and the two holes on the neck were clearly visible. Combeferre pointed to them with the tip of his pen.

“Did you do these?”

Grantaire stared at the picture before nodding. Combeferre turned the clipboard back to him and wrote something down. He looked back up.

“How did you cause them?”

Grantaire was positive that Combeferre already knew the answer- he just wanted to hear it from the man himself.

“I bit him.”

“Why did you bite him?”

“Bloodlust.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. Bloodlust. I wanted to drink his blood, so I did.”

Combeferre wrote something else down and then put his pen down. 

“Why am I in a fucking psychiatric hospital, Ferre?”

“You bit a man to drink his blood. Those are the facts.”

“But why am I here? Why didn’t you take me to police custody?”

Combeferre didn’t answer his question.

“I need you to answer something for me,” He said suddenly.

“What?”

“Are you a vampire?”

The question was simple. The answer was yes. But Grantaire couldn’t bring himself to say it. He had admitted to himself the answer to that question for his entire life, but to say it to someone else…no, he couldn’t do that.

Instead, he nodded.

Combeferre sighed, “I thought so. The evidence was there.”

“But why am I here? Why was I in a restraint vest? Why did they put me in this room?”

“They thought you were dangerous.”

Grantaire laughed, “Of course I’m dangerous, I’m a bloody vampire. What more did they expect?”

“They certainly didn’t expect this. They thought you were on drugs or something.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Listen, Grantaire. There isn’t much I can tell you at this point. You killed someone, and based on the manner in which you…did so, the witnesses and paramedics believed it best to send you here. I don’t disagree with them. You lost all self-control, and it’s best if you remain somewhere I can keep an eye on you for the time being. You need to work on keeping your self-control, and then I can let you go.”

“But I have fucking self-control! It’s just…it goes away when I’m drunk.”

“Then don’t get drunk.”

Grantaire stared at him, “I can’t…I can’t just do that, Ferre.”

“Yes, you can. You only went to that bar because Enjolras was acting horribly to you, right?”

He nodded.

“Well, then, you just have to learn to put up a resistance to Enjolras. He doesn’t know or understand most of what he’s saying, he didn’t mean it. He never means what he says, he’s just an idiot.”

“That’s a shit excuse and you know it.”

Combeferre nodded, “I do. But I never take anything he says to heart- that’s the difference.”

Grantaire was silent for a while. He had been placed in the psychiatric hospital because he had lost his self-control. Regaining it shouldn’t be too hard, right?

“The thing is,’ Combeferre began, adjusting his glasses. ‘I did some reading, and apparently, it’s much harder for a vampire to regain their self-control once they’ve lost it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I talked to Eponine earlier. She said that you haven’t ever lost your self-control like that- I mean, sure, you drink blood on a daily basis, but that stuff doesn’t come from a human. You don’t kill someone just for that.”

“True.”

“So it’s going to be a lot harder to control yourself now. You know how human blood tastes- you’ve experienced the thrill of killing because of hunger-”

“I wouldn’t call it a thrill,” Grantaire interrupted.

“It’s just going to take a lot more work than you think. But I know you can do it. If you’ve managed to keep yourself in control your entire life, then that’s already a good start.”

Grantaire looked down at the restraint vest by the chair, “How can I do that?”

Combeferre smiled, “Simple. We’ll work on it step-by-step.”

“But how?”

“We’ll put you in a room just like this one. I’ll make sure there’s some sort of column in the room, and then I’ll restrain you to it. Then, one at a time, we’ll bring in live animals. We’ll stop once you react to one, and during the next session we’ll start with the animal you reacted to until you can go through every one- including a human- without losing control and giving in to your vampiric instincts.”

“And you’re sure that’ll work?”

“I hope so. There isn’t anything else we can do, I’m afraid.”

Grantaire nodded, “All right. Okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

“Excellent. Oh, and, by the way, I don’t think any less of you, Grantaire. You’re still my friend. Nothing’s changed.”

“Good. But promise you won’t tell anyone else- I can’t let them know.”

“I promise. Now, come, on, I’ll bring you to your room.”

“I thought I was going to be staying here?”

Combeferre shook his head, “No, no, this is just for safety precautions. We put all our new patients in a room like this when they first arrive, and considering you’re not showing any signs of possible harm towards me, I’m going to place you in a regular room.”

“I’m not showing any signs of harm yet.”

“Positive thoughts.”

As Grantaire followed Combeferre through the hallways of the hospital, he thought that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be too bad.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, 'a few days ago' means tomorrow.

The room that Grantaire had been given was considerably nice- it had a small window with a view of the parking lot, and the rest of Paris behind it. There was a bed, and a bathroom, and even a small desk. Combeferre had given him everything he needed- including a stack of paper and several expensive pencils. It was comforting, in an odd way, to have a friend as his doctor. It made the situation seem better than it actually was.

A short while later, a nurse came in and handed him clothing that resembled pajamas. It was the standard hospital outfit, and he was, of course, forced to wear it. He was even given a green paper wristband, complete with his name and date of administration. He could easily rip it off, but it wasn’t worth the trouble. 

Combeferre came around noon.

“It’s lunch,” He said.

Grantaire made an incomprehensible gesture with his hand.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“For blood, yes. Not for food.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“All right.”

Combeferre turned to leave, but in a flash Grantaire was beside him.

“Wait, I changed my mind. I’ll eat.”

Combeferre smiled and led him to the cafeteria. It wasn’t that full, and Grantaire suddenly felt extremely out-of-place. He didn’t have some sort of mental health illness or anything of the sort- he was just a vampire with an extremely bad case of self-control. All these people were here because they actually needed help, and Grantaire…well, he had managed just fine for the past twenty-two years of his life.

Combeferre put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay. You have a reason to be here just as much as everyone else. You also need help, but with other things.”

Grantaire wondered if his expression had betrayed his thoughts, but he said nothing, just nodded and let Combeferre guide him to a free table. He sat down and watched Combeferre as he went to grab lunch for the both of them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young woman approach the table. He looked up at her.

“Why are you here?” She asked.

“I’m a vampire.”

Grantaire saw no reason to hide it from the people here- it probably wasn’t the weirdest thing they’ve ever heard. She looked at him and nodded slowly.

“Nice. I hear voices. In my head. That other people don’t hear.”

“And what do they tell you?”

“That you might try to kill me.”

“I think they’re right.”

The girl nodded again and left, going over to her own table nearby. Combeferre soon came back and set down a tray in front of him.

“What were you and Emily talking about?”

Grantaire shrugged and ate a fry, “Oh just that I might attempt to kill her.”

Combeferre gave him a dirty glare, “Positive thoughts.”

Grantaire didn’t reply. They didn’t talk much for the rest of lunch. 

~

Grantaire hadn’t expected their sessions to start now. He had expected Combeferre to give him a day to get used to…all this, to the hospital, before diving into deep waters. Instead, Grantaire found himself handcuffed to a wall lamp in a small room. Combeferre was in an even smaller room attached to it, taking note if his behaviour, watching him through a small window. At his command, an employee brought in a glass jar. There was a small moth inside, but Grantaire didn’t care for it. The employee soon returned to take away the jar, and replaced it with a birdcage. The sudden scent of blood hit Grantaire like a wave. He could hear a small heartbeat- that of a small bird, perhaps a sparrow. The employee removed the cover atop the cage to reveal a small blue jay. Grantaire’s eyes settled on the bird, wide and unblinking. Combeferre took note of something and then looked up again. He was watching Grantaire almost as intensely as Grantaire was watching the bird.

The blue jay flapped its wings a little. The scent of the blood was intoxicating.

Grantaire couldn’t help himself.

He lunged, struggling against the handcuffs to reach the bird. He let out a wild growl, snapping at the cage and trying to free himself of his restraints. He struggled against them for a while, lashing out at the poor, terrified bird. Combeferre hadn’t stopped noting things down since he first gave into his instincts.

Eventually, Grantaire gave up and stopped struggling against the handcuffs. He stared at the blue jay, his thoughts overtaken by the desire to kill it. Slowly, he returned to himself. He frowned at the bird. How could he have wanted to kill the poor thing? It was much too innocent. 

“Five minutes and thirty-eight seconds.”

Grantaire looked over to the door, watching Combeferre as he stepped inside, a clipboard in his hand. This was a whole new side of him Grantaire had never seen- but there was also a side of him Combeferre had never seen, until now.

“What?” He asked, breathless.

“It took you five minutes and thirty-eight seconds to calm down. That’s good.”

“No, it’s not. I gave into…into my instincts with the bird. I can’t do this.”

Combeferre walked over and gently removed the handcuffs, then shook his head.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. We’ve just started; you’ll get better in no time.”

“I almost killed that bird.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I had handcuffs holding me back.”

Combeferre regarded him, “And what if you didn’t? Would you still have killed the bird?”

“Yes, I probably would.”

“We’re working on that, Grantaire. I know it’s not really your thing, but have a little faith. It’ll do you some good.”

Grantaire rubbed his wrists, which were sore from the restraints. He watched as Combeferre draped the cover over the birdcage again and started walking towards the door. He held it open.

“Did you know that when you lunged at the bird your eyes turned black and your fangs appeared?”

“I didn’t know about the whole eye thing, no.”

“It’s fascinating. Like watching them feed the tigers at the zoo.”

“Please don’t compare me to a tiger.”

Combeferre laughed softly, “I won’t. Tomorrow, we’ll try to get past the bird. That’s my goal for next session, and no worries if we don’t immediately accomplish it.”

“So that’s it, then? We’re done for today?”

Combeferre nodded and led him back to his room.

“I have other patients to see, you know. And I’m supposed to meet up with Enjolras in an hour.”

“Enjolras.”

Combeferre looked down at the floor, “Yeah, umm, it’s just…stupid stuff for our, umm, next meeting. I’m really sorry for what he said to you, last night. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

Grantaire kicked the door to his room and clenched his hands into fists at his side.

“It’s fine. It’s not even your fault.”

“But I didn’t-“

“Ferre, it’s not your fucking fault. Enjolras said all those things, and, you know what, he’s right. He’s right, for once. I am a wretch and an abomination and pathetic and I don’t deserve to live. He’s right. Honesty is the best policy, isn’t it?’ He let out a bitter, humorless laugh. 

‘I don’t know why I’m so worked up over that man when he obviously hates me. He wants me to die, I know it, and so do I. He’s an angel, a guardian for the people, and I’m just a demon, a vampire, a creature of the night, haunting him in shadows and worshipping him from afar. I am a mortal, entranced by Apollo and he shoots down arrows of misery at me. Oh, he’s right. You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. It’s his fault, Ferre, and don’t you dare apologise for something you didn’t do.”

With that, Grantaire stormed into his room and slammed the door shut. He lay face-down on his bed. All he could see was Enjolras yelling at him, the scene from last night replaying in his mind like a broken film. He heard Combeferre walk away, and once he knew he was a safe distance away, he sat down in front of the desk and brandished a blank paper, pencil in his hand.

Drawing always calmed him down. So he drew what he knew best: Enjolras.


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days went by in a similar fashion: Grantaire woke up, had breakfast, took a nap, ate lunch, had a session with Combeferre and then drew for the entire afternoon. He had lost track of time, but he was sure that at least a week had passed since he was first admitted to the hospital.

He hadn’t seen any of his friends in a week.

“Do they miss me?” He asked one day, as Combeferre was handcuffing him to the wall lamp.

Combeferre paused what he was doing, “I think they do.”

“Does Eponine?”

“Yes.”

Does Enjolras?

Grantaire nodded but said nothing more as Combeferre left and went into the small room on the other side of the window. Their sessions were going pretty well: Grantaire had gotten past the blue jay and a rabbit. 

Today, they were working on getting him past the chicken.

An employee soon came in with a metal cage. There was no cover on this one. Grantaire watched with wide, unblinking eyes as the chicken was placed on the table in front of him. He could smell blood, and it was thick and hot and appetizing. Sure, he still had his daily dose of packaged, frozen blood, but this was fresh. He wouldn’t have to wait forty-five seconds for it to get warm enough to eat.

But, on the other hand, this chicken was a food source for a lot of people. He could tell it was a hen, so she must lay eggs, right? And eggs were food. People need food. He couldn’t just kill the chicken out of his own selfish desires and leave people without eggs.

He didn’t go for the chicken.

Combeferre smiled at him and began clapping, jotting things down the whole time. He signalled for someone to take away the chicken, and it was soon replaced by a small goat.

Goats weren’t that useful, right? So it wouldn’t hurt anyone if he killed it.

Grantaire was about to go for it, but then he stepped back and sighed. No, he couldn’t give in to his instincts. He had to control himself, otherwise he’d spend eternity locked up in here. And he wanted to leave more than anything.

Combeferre clapped again, and soon another employee came in and replaced the goat with another cage.

There was a cat in the cage.

Upon further inspection, Grantaire realized that there was at least five cats cramped up in there, meowing and sticking their paws out between the metal bars. They smelled really, really good. And edible. 

But Grantaire liked cats too much, so he closed his eyes and tried to ignore their presence. The fact that they were all meowing incessantly wasn’t helping very much.

Combeferre clapped again. The cats were replaced by something much larger- something much more appetizing. Grantaire opened his eyes and found himself facing a dog. A German shepherd, in fact. The smell of its blood was intoxicating.

Grantaire lunged at the dog, snapping and struggling against the handcuffs. The dog watched him, unfazed. It took him a while to calm down, and he was pretty sure the only reason he still wasn’t trying to kill the dog was because his wrists were starting to hurt.

“Two minutes and seventeen seconds,” Combeferre said.

He let the dog out of the room, and it obediently followed another employee. 

“I almost killed a dog,” Grantaire whispered.

“But you didn’t. You’re already making progress.”

“Not enough.”

Combeferre released him from the handcuffs and stepped back. He was afraid, and Grantaire knew that, but he tried to ignore it.

“What do you mean?” Combeferre asked, voice gentle.

“I don’t want to stay here forever, Ferre. And if I don’t progress enough, then I will stay here forever. I want to see the world again. I want…I want to see our friends again. To see Eponine again.”

Combeferre leaned against the doorway and looked at Grantaire with an unreadable expression.

“You know,’ He began. ‘I could always bring everyone over. You’re allowed to have visitors.”

“And what will they think when they see me in a psychiatric hospital?”

“You can tell them why you’re here.”

Grantaire laughed, “That’s not an option. Nope. Totally out of the question. They can’t know I’m a fucking vampire, Ferre! They won’t believe me. They’ll think I’m in rehab or whatever.”

Combeferre sighed sharply, “They won’t think you’re in rehab, Grantaire. You wouldn’t be here if you were. And they will believe you, trust me. And if they don’t, we’ll show them. Make them believe. It would just benefit you to have your friends- the people you care about- know.”

“What would they think of me? If they knew?”

“I can’t speak for them, but…I don’t think they’ll regard you any differently. You’re still the same person we’ve known all these years. It’s not like you’ve been killing people for blood every day of your life. You have exceptional self-control- I mean, sure, we’re working to bring it back right now, but it’s not like they have a reason to be afraid of you.”

“But you are. You’re scared of me.”

Combeferre nodded slowly, “That I am. But I’ve been told most of my fears are irrational.”

“It’s not irrational, though. That’s the problem. I could kill you any second. I’ve already killed someone before, why wouldn’t I do it again?”

Combeferre put a hand on his shoulder.

“Because you’re a good person. It was a one-time thing; a slip-up. I’m scared of you, yes, but you’re also my friend. I trust you, Grantaire.”

“You’ve misplaced your trust, then.”

“No, I don’t think I have. You’re making good progress, whether you want to believe it or not. You’re getting better every day, and soon enough I think you’ll be good for release.”

“Really?”

Release. Freedom. The idea sounded really appealing at the moment.

Combeferre nodded, “Yes, but I do have one condition.”

Grantaire frowned, “What?”

“That once you’re released, you’ll be under constant supervision.”

“What.”

“You’ll need someone with you at all times, to make sure you don’t lose your self-control or attack someone.”

“But…but if you release me, then that means I have self-control.”

“Not all of it. Not like you used to. You’re never going to be able to gain it all back, Grantaire. That’s pretty much impossible now. I trust you enough so that I know you won’t hurt anyone, but just in case.”

“So I’m going to be treated like a kid?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It sure as hell sounds like that to me!”

Combeferre didn’t say anything, so Grantaire just angrily pushed past him and stalked into his room. If Combeferre wanted to treat him like a child, then fine, let him try. Getting Grantaire to cooperate wouldn’t be so easy.

~

There was a knock at the door and Grantaire looked up, momentarily losing his grip on the pencil. Combeferre stepped in, looking unusually awkward and embarrassed.

“What do you want?” Grantaire snapped.

“I…I wanted to tell you that I’m going now.”

“Do you want me to celebrate?”

Grantaire knew he was being incredibly rude and (not unusually) sarcastic, but he couldn’t help himself. Combeferre had also been rude, insinuating that he needed to be under ‘constant supervision’.

“I also wanted to apologise. I know you don’t think you need to be supervised, but you do. You could easily lose control at any time, and it’d be really helpful to have someone there with you. Someone who can hold you back, prevent you from ending up in jail, from killing an innocent person.”

“Name someone who can do the job.”

“I haven’t gotten around to that part yet.”

Grantaire snorted ungracefully, “Right. You can’t name someone, can you?”

“Eponine?”

“Eponine has other responsibilities. She has two siblings to take care of, plus herself. You can’t just pile more shit on her.”

“It wouldn’t be-“

“No, listen, Ferre. Eponine has other things, all right? I’m not going to be another burden.”

“But hasn’t she been taking care of you your entire life?”

Combeferre did have a point. A really good point.

“Yes, but that’s because I didn’t have anyone else.”

They were silent for some time. Combeferre nodded and stepped back.

“Okay. I’ll…I’ll think of something. I’m not giving up on you, Grantaire. You’re my friend, I don’t want to lose you.”

“You already have,” He muttered.

Combeferre ignored his last comment and left, closing the door behind him. Grantaire sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew that Eponine was probably his only option, considering everyone else was either busy or they wouldn’t want to do it, but that’s be so much to burden her with. She was balancing multiple jobs just to keep Gavroche and Azelma safe and healthy and taken care of- she didn’t need to constantly watch a vampire on top of that. 

Grantaire had a feeling that release wasn’t going to be happening soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated, mon ami. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Combeferre barely talked to Grantaire the next day, and it continued on for a week. He had even stopped reporting how long it took for him to calm down at the end of each session. After eight sessions without any form of communication, Grantaire decided that he had enough and went after him.

“Ferre, wait! Wait up!” He yelled.

Combeferre didn’t stop walking, so Grantaire ran up to him, blocking his way with his arms crossed. 

“Is there something you wanted to tell me?” Combeferre asked sharply.

“I wanted to apologise.”

“For what?”

“I was being an asshole to you about the whole supervision thing. I…I realized that, maybe, you’re right about the matter and I should be under supervision.”

“Is that all?”

Grantaire shook his head and took a deep breath. He had considered this for a long time.

“I think that it might be a good idea to tell our friends.”

Combeferre smiled.

~

“Well?”

Combeferre raised a finger as a wordless one second gesture, pointing to the phone at his ear. Grantaire sighed and leaned back on his chair, closing his eyes. As long as Combeferre was preoccupied, he could take a nap-

“I talked to everyone.”

Combeferre’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“Took you long enough,” Grantaire grumbled.

Combeferre rolled his eyes, “I had nine people to talk to. I never said it was going to be quick.”

“And what did they say?”

“Joly fainted, for starters.”

Grantaire’s eyes went wide, “He did?”

“Yeah, he did. Everyone else took it well, I think. Jehan was very fascinated.”

“Of course.”

“They’re all coming to visit you tomorrow.”

“What the hell?”

Combeferre looked down at the floor, “I might’ve told them that they could come?”

“Why would you do that?”

“They all wanted to see you again, so I said that tomorrow would be great.”

“No it wouldn’t!”

“Grantaire. What are you going to be doing tomorrow?”

“Sessions.”

“And?”

“And…nothing else. Are they really coming?”

“Three in the afternoon.”

“Shit. I’m not prepared.”

Grantaire ran a hand through his hair and left the room, shaking his head. He was not at all prepared to see his friends tomorrow. He hadn’t seen them in over a week- what would they all think? Would they still want to be his friends? Would they still accept him?

He’d rather not think about it.

~

Grantaire was waiting for his friends in the empty cafeteria, sliding the paper band up and down his wrist. 

“It’s 3:01,” He said.

Combeferre sighed, “They’re allowed to be late.”

Just as he said that, the door opened, and the majority of Les Amis walked in. Their eyes landed on Grantaire, and they ran towards him at full speed. Grantaire didn’t see Enjolras among them, and he didn’t know whether or not he should be relieved.

“Is it just me, or is Enjolras not here?” He asked.

“I didn’t tell him,” Combeferre replied.

Bless Combeferre and his logic. Grantaire could face his friends about this, but not Enjolras. Never Enjolras.

“R! We’ve missed you,” Joly cried, hugging him fiercely.

Grantaire blinked at him in surprise. He hadn’t had actual human contact for a few days now…seeing Combeferre and the other employees and patients at the hospital barely constituted. The scent of his friends’ blood was fresh and…nice. Nice, but not in an I-want-to-suck-your-blood way. Nice in an oh-that-Febreze-smells-nice way. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” He replied.

The other Amis hugged him all in turn, saying how much they missed him and how nothing has changed between them. He wished he could believe what they were saying.

“That’s nice and all,’ Combeferre said. ‘But you guys are here for a reason other than reassuring Grantaire you still want to be his friends.”

Everyone, including Grantaire, stared at him in shock. Combeferre had never mentioned inviting them for ‘another reason’ before. 

He must be talking about the whole supervision thing.

Grantaire groaned loudly and slammed his head down on the table. He knew everyone must be looking at him weirdly, but he honestly did not care whatsoever.

Combeferre didn’t seem to notice.

“I think, based on our recent sessions and how much progress he’s been showing, I can release Grantaire in three weeks’ time-“

Combeferre was interrupted by a chorus of cheering and whooping. He raised a finger to silence them.

“-But, he’s going to need to be under constant supervision to ensure that there won’t be a future attack. By constant, I mean 24/7. I need someone to be able to do that once he’s released.”

There was silence.

“I can do it,’ Eponine spoke up. ‘I mean, I’ve done it all his life.”

Grantaire caught the falter in her confidence- no one else did, so he just let it go.

“You have other responsibilities,” Combeferre said.

“But I can still take care of him. I’ve done it before,” Eponine persisted.

Combeferre’s voice suddenly went cold as ice, “Remember what happened last time he was entrusted in your care?”

A heavy silence hung in the air. Grantaire knew he was talking about the attack- although it technically wasn’t Eponine’s fault. He was the one who had decided drinking was a good idea; he was the one who killed a man that night.

“It’s not Eponine’s fault, Ferre,” He growled.

Eponine laid a cool, gentle hand on his arm.

“No, no. It really is my fault. I shouldn’t have let you stay at the bar. I left you, alone and drunk, when I should have taken care of you. Ferre’s right- it is my fault.”

“I’m not saying it’s your fault,’ Combeferre said, choosing his words carefully. ‘I’m saying that you had- have- other responsibilities, so your full attention won’t be on Grantaire.”

Eponine slumped back in her chair, “I guess. But you better choose someone good. Because if I’m not good enough to take care of him, I don’t know who is.”

Feuilly cleared his throat, “Ferre, you do realize that all of us have jobs or university to deal with? We can’t just put everything aside. No one’s going to be able to give him their full, undivided attention.”

“Well thanks. You sure know how to make a man feel good,” Grantaire grumbled.

Combeferre considered this.

“I…I know that. Which is why I was thinking-“

“That’s never good,” Courfeyrac interrupted.

Combeferre glared at him, “-that maybe we could get Enjolras to do the job.”

“Enjolras? But he has university and Les Amis things,” Bahorel pointed out.

“I wouldn’t trust Enjolras with a cactus,” Eponine muttered.

Grantaire suddenly stood up and stared at Combeferre. There was no way he was going to let Enjolras supervise him.

“No,’ He hissed. ‘Enjolras is not doing that. I don’t want fucking Enjolras supervising me.”

“But-“ Combeferre began.

“No damn ‘buts’! I will not settle for Enjolras, and that’s final.”

Combeferre sighed, “I mean, sure he’s got university but he isn’t doing a job on the side because his parents pay for everything, so you can just go with him to his lectures and stuff and he’s actually really good at supervising people.”

Grantaire didn’t know if he should be impressed because Combeferre had said that all in one long breath. He didn’t even look the least bit fazed.

“How are you still alive?” Joly asked in wonder.

Combeferre ignored him and continued, “Enjolras won’t think less of you, Grantaire.”

Grantaire snorted, “The only reason I believe you is because it isn’t possible for him to think any less of me.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant- never mind. You’ll figure it out in your own time.”

“Figure what out in my own time?”

“Just give him a chance, will you? He’s not that bad.”

“No, he’s worse,” Eponine agreed.

“You’re not helping,” Combeferre snapped.

Eponine shrugged, “It’s kind of my thing, if you haven’t noticed.”

Grantaire considered this. If he let Enjolras supervise him, he’d have an excuse to spend more time with him. But, then again, Enjolras would probably still act rude and cold and distant, which wouldn’t be very fun. On the other hand, who else could do the job? Joly had med school, Bossuet couldn’t be trusted with anything that was slightly breakable, Musichetta had the Musain, Feuilly had his hundred and one jobs, Bahorel had that boxing studio of his, Jehan was in university and worked at several bookshops, Marius wasn’t exactly trustworthy, Cosette was balancing familial financial trouble and university, Eponine had her siblings and jobs, Courfeyrac wasn’t the best person for this kind of job, and Combeferre worked at the psychiatric hospital, alongside co-running Les Amis.

So, really, the only practical choice was Enjolras. Who literally did nothing with his life except for university and Les Amis, which was only every Friday and the occasional weekend.

“Fine. Enjolras can do it.”

It was obvious that Combeferre hadn’t been expecting that answer.

“I- you know I’ll have to tell him, right?”

Grantaire shrugged, “Let him think whatever the hell he wants to think. I don’t care anymore.”

Combeferre nodded slowly, still digesting Grantaire’s answer.

“Okay. Great. That’s…good. Excellent,” He said, shocked.

Grantaire shook his head, “It’s not ‘excellent’, it’s a last resort. I’m just really desperate.”

Combeferre smiled warmly, and Grantaire was convinced he knew something that he didn’t.

“It’s a good thing, trust me.”


	5. Chapter 5

Grantaire didn’t hear about Enjolras’ reaction, or if he had even agreed, for a few days. He was constantly thinking about if Enjolras had agreed, and what he thought of him now, and if he’d think of Grantaire as a burden.

 

“Ferre,’ He asked. ‘How did Enjolras react? When you told him everything?”

 

Combeferre finished what he was writing down before looking up, slightly frowning. He hesitated.

 

~

 

_“Hey, Enj, can I talk to you about something?” Combeferre asked._

_Enjolras looked up from his laptop and nodded, patting the space next to him on the couch. Combeferre sat down and took a deep breath._

_“It’s about Grantaire.”_

_Enjolras narrowed his eyes, “Grantaire. You mean, the same man who hasn’t bothered to attend meetings for weeks now, and who you obviously know something about that I don’t?”_

_Combeferre nodded, “Just here me out. He, umm…well, a few weeks ago, he was admitted into the psychiatric hospital I work at, and I can release him soon under the condition that he’ll be constantly supervised. And I thought…umm…I thought that you would be the best for the job, seeing as everyone else kind of have…jobs. And you don’t. At the moment.”_

_Enjolras said nothing for a while._

_“Why is Grantaire in the psychiatric hospital?” He asked finally._

_“Umm, well…you see, he’s a…uh…vampire. He kind of lost his self control one night and, umm…killed someone. So they sent him there.”_

_Enjolras’ expression was marmoreal, blank. Combeferre was unsure what to make of that until he spoke._

_“I expected nothing better,” Enjolras said, voice sharp and cold like ice._

_“You don’t mean that, do you?”_

_“Yeah, I do. I expected nothing better of Grantaire than to be some soulless, heartless, blood-sucking creature-of-the-night like he always was. His personality makes more sense now.”_

_Combeferre stared at his friend, mouth open in shock. Enjolras couldn’t possibly mean all those things. That’d be…that’d be heartless of him. But who was he kidding? Enjolras had been known to act heartlessly on several occasions._

_“I’ll still do the job, though.”_

_“Why? If you hate him that much, why bother?”_

_“It’s my duty as a member of Les Amis to help any other members or associates in their times of need.”_

_Combeferre nodded numbly. Of course Enjolras would think of it as some task he had to accomplish. As something beneficial to Les Amis as a group._

_“Right, of course. I’ll let him know, then.”_

_Combeferre sighed to himself as Enjolras nodded briskly and walked away. Had he made the right decision?_

~

 

Combeferre nodded, more to himself than to Grantaire.

 

“He’s…he took it well. He’ll do the job.”

 

Grantaire sighed, “For some reason, I don’t believe you.”

 

“Well, he did.”

 

“Whatever you say.”

 

_What does Combeferre mean by ‘he took it good’?_ Grantaire wondered. ‘Taking things good’ didn’t exactly mean ‘happily and kindly’ with Enjolras. It usually meant ‘he barely yelled or spoke at all’, which wasn’t at all what Grantaire had been hoping for. Had he really been so stupid as to hope Enjolras would proclaim that he still loves Grantaire, even though he’s a vampire? Had he really believed that Enjolras wouldn’t be somewhat Enjolras-ish about the whole thing?

 

If Combeferre had ever drugged his food, then it was doing wonders to his pessimism.

 

~

 

A week passed, and each day Grantaire found himself progressing more and more during the sessions. He had made it past all the challenges that Combeferre sent his way- including several humans, which were incredibly hard to resist.

 

“Aren’t I doing well?” He asked.

 

Combeferre nodded as he released Grantaire from the handcuffs.

 

“That’s good. I’ll have you ready for release in less than a week.”

 

“You’re joking, right?”

 

“No. I don’t joke when I’m working.”

 

“You can’t be serious. Less than a fucking week! I’ll be out of here, and then I can-“

 

“And then you’ll be under Enjolras’ supervision until you can properly regain your self-control,’ Combeferre interrupted. He pointed at his clipboard. ‘You have made a lot of progress, yes, but I can still see it’s hard for you to restrain yourself. The only reason you haven’t attacked all the people I put in here is because you’re chained up. If I didn’t do that, you would’ve attacked. You’re definitely getting better, though. It takes you less time to calm down than it did a few days ago. Which is great, really. But you still need to work on it, and it’s going to be a lot harder in a public environment.”

 

Grantaire frowned, “I…I know that. I know all of that already. I just really want to get out of here.”

 

“Less than a week, Grantaire. Less than a week.”

 

~

 

Less than a week turned out to be exactly three days. In three days’ time, Grantaire would be released from the psychiatric hospital and into the hands of golden Enjolras. He wasn’t sure which would be more beneficial to his mental wellbeing- probably the hospital.

 

It was one of those days when Grantaire had nothing to do, as drawing Enjolras repeatedly for hours got boring, and Combeferre was off helping other patients, that he looked at the world outside. Paris was beautiful when it was dark- the constellations against the black canvas of the sky, the millions of lights from the city, sparkling like some gorgeous movie backdrop. His mind’s eye was doing terrible things: imagining himself and Enjolras, side-by-side on some five-star hotel balcony, exchanging cliché romantic lines and then proceeding to kiss, the Eiffel Tower perfecting the moment behind them.

 

Screw imagination.

 

Grantaire averted his gaze to the parking lot, watching several employees get into their cars and head home after a long day at the hospital. He knew Combeferre would be leaving in half an hour, like he always did, and he’d come up to say good-bye, then get into his car and drive away to spend the evening with all the friends Grantaire missed dearly. He had seen them twice since their first visit, but he still missed them. Even Eponine didn’t come more often- for what reason, he didn’t know.

 

He wondered if she still blamed herself for the fact that he had killed someone.

 

The door opened, and Grantaire turned around to face Combeferre, who gently smiled at him.

 

“I’m leaving early today, Courf and I have a date I’ve been putting off for the past two weeks.”  


“Are you blaming me for that?”  


Combeferre shook his head, “No, I have other patients, remember? It’s not your fault. He’s busy, I’m busy, Enjolras likes to interfere with our relationship. It’s all kind of screwed up.”

 

“Right. Well, enjoy, then. Tell Courf I say hi.”  


“Will do.”

 

Combeferre walked over to his desk and, using the Sharpie he always carried with him, drew a big ‘X’ on the calendar he had given Grantaire a few days ago.

 

“Three more days, Grantaire. Just three more days.”

 

And with that, he was gone, the door closed softly behind him.

 

~

 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I had other plans for today,” Combeferre said.

 

Grantaire looked up from his breakfast and shrugged, “What plans?”

 

“Instead of sessions, I was thinking we could take walks.”

 

“Walks.”

 

“Yeah, walks around the hospital. And maybe to the park nearby.”  


“Why?”

 

“Well, I want you to get used to being outside. And to having unfamiliar people around you. The thing is, Enjolras is going to have to take you to all his lectures and classes at the university. Meaning, you’ll be around a lot of people. I’m not saying we should take a trip to the mall- just around the hospital and the park.”  


“You think I’m ready for that?”

 

Combeferre nodded, “Yes, I do. I really do. You’ve made so much progress, and, besides, fresh air is good for you.”

 

Grantaire sighed, “I don’t really have a say in this, don’t I?”

 

“Not at all.”  


~

 

The fresh air was appreciated, but the sudden burst of sunlight was not. Grantaire generally didn’t mind it- but, considering the fact that he hadn’t set foot outside the hospital for a good few weeks now, he had developed a sudden hatred of glowing orbs of light and heat.

 

“You could’ve warned me about the damn sunlight,” He growled.

 

Combeferre smiled, amused.

 

“I thought that after twenty-two years in Paris you’d be used to it, but apparently I was wrong.”  


“I thought you said you didn’t joke while working?”

 

“That wasn’t a joke.”

 

Grantaire huffed, “Well…whatever. I just haven’t seen the fucking sun for weeks, so excuse me if it’s blinding.”

 

“You’re excused.”

 

Grantaire glared at him. Combeferre raised his hands in mock surrender.

 

“Okay, all right, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, I was just trying to lighten the mood.”  


“It’s not exactly working.”

 

“I get that now. Let’s walk, okay? It’ll do you good.”  


Grantaire relented and let Combeferre guide him around the hospital, pointing out plants and insects he found fascinating. He occasionally stopped to point out certain sections of the building Grantaire hadn’t seen before, striking up conversation whenever he could.

 

“Do you think you’ll be able to handle the park?” Combeferre asked.

 

Grantaire shrugged, “You’re the doctor.”  


“I think you can, but what do you think?”  


“I think I should trust your opinion.”

 

Combeferre smiled, “Good, then we’re going to the park. Just let me know if you ever need to head back, all right?”

 

“Yes, Mother Ferre.”

 

Combeferre laughed, and then guided the two of them to a small park near the hospital. It was a small area, surrounded by a small forest of lush green trees. There was a playground, and it was empty save for a few children and their parents. Wooden benches dotted the fields. Grantaire saw a dog resting on a picnic blanket, ears pricked up.

 

“You’re going to be around much more people when I release you,’ Combeferre said, breaking the silence. ‘But if you can manage this, then that’s already a good start.”

 

“What if I won’t be able to handle this?”

 

“I’m still going to release you. It’d be unfair to keep you behind. That just means you’ll have to work harder to restrain yourself in public.”

 

Grantaire nodded, but said nothing. He watched the kids on the playground, the dog on the blanket, the parents chatting amongst themselves. It felt kind of nice to be around people again…people who weren’t locked up in a psychiatric hospital, wearing matching white uniforms, or employees who were generally afraid of him.

 

“These people don’t know about me,” He whispered.

 

“They don’t,” Combeferre agreed, nodding.

 

“And it feels…it feels kind of nice, you know, not being around people who know I’m a vampire.”

 

Combeferre patted his shoulder and smiled.

 

“Two days.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, Enj was really mean, but he gets better, don't worry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a while, I've just been pretty busy lately. Happy Emperor Augustus' Birthday!

Grantaire’s last two days at the hospital went by quickly. In any other situation, it would have been a wonderful thing, but considering that that meant Grantaire would see Enjolras soon, he wasn’t all that excited. Sure, it would be nice being free again, but Enjolras (above all people) would be constantly supervising him.

Why had he agreed in the first place?

~

“Enjolras will be coming by early tomorrow morning to pick you up,” Combeferre said.

Grantaire said nothing, just finished his dinner. Which was Chinese take-out Combeferre had somehow smuggled in for them.

“Can’t wait,” He replied sarcastically.

Combeferre sighed, “Grantaire. Enjolras isn’t going to bit-“

He paused mid-sentence and immediately closed his mouth, suddenly realising what he had said. Or was about to say. Grantaire put his food down and nodded sharply, more to himself.

“No, that’s fine. I mean, Enjolras won’t bite me because he’s human but, hey, I’m a fucking vampire so I’ll probably bite him- or at least attempt to, considering how shitty my self-control is at the moment.”

He left the room before Combeferre had a chance to respond, and found himself leaning against the oak tree in the hospital’s small garden. He often came here with Combeferre, after they finished their daily walk, and he’d sketch something while Combeferre did whatever he did here. Now, it was completely empty. Which Grantaire was thankful for, because he really didn’t feel like having company at the moment.

He heard approaching footsteps and looked up, frowning when he recognized Combeferre’s figure silhouetted by the dim lights.

“I’m sorry,’ He said, sitting cross-legged in front of Grantaire. ‘You know I didn’t mean it that way. I just…I meant to say that Enjolras isn’t going to harm you. He thinks of this as a task, so he’ll treat you good.”

Grantaire raised a hand, “Hold up. He thinks this is a task? A fucking task that a good citizen should do?”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Well, that’s just great. Enjolras thinks of me as a task.”

“I’m sorry-“

“Enough, Ferre. Enough damn apologies for tonight.”

Combeferre sighed, “Listen. Enjolras does think of you as a task…but he’ll warm up to you. He’s still going to treat you nicely.”

“Knowing him? Unlikely.”

“Positive thoughts.”

“I’m not really good at that, if you haven’t noticed.”

They sat in silence for a while, until Combeferre got up and started walking towards the door. He turned around and sighed.

“I’ll leave you alone, if you want. But just remember that Enjolras isn’t as bad as you think he is.”

“He’s probably worse,” Grantaire muttered.

He heard Combeferre’s retreating footsteps, but didn’t bother to go after him. He fell asleep by the oak tree, wondering if he had really made the right decision or not.

~

Morning came too quickly. For the first time, Grantaire wished that he wouldn’t be released today. That Combeferre and the rest of the Amis would pop up from behind plants and yell ‘surprise, you’re not getting released’. Or maybe they thought it would be fun to put him on one of those prank shows. Either way, he really didn’t want to get released.

Because release meant seeing Enjolras again.

“You awake?”

Grantaire opened his eyes and looked up at Combeferre, who was crouched down beside him. 

“Obviously,’ He muttered, still half-asleep. ‘When did you come here?”

“Half an hour ago. Come on, let’s go get you some breakfast.”

Grantaire silently followed Combeferre out of the garden and to the cafeteria. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but some food couldn’t hurt. If anything, it would do him good.

~

“You said Enjolras was going to come early today to get me. How early is early?”

Combeferre sighed and checked his watch, “It’s eight in the morning.”

“So? How early is early? I thought early was, like, before ni-“

“Why don’t I text him and find out when he’s coming?” Combeferre suggested sharply.

Grantaire dropped the fork in his hands and nodded, “I didn’t think of that.”

Combeferre emitted a cough that sounded suspiciously like ‘I noticed’.

~

“He’s coming around nine,” Combeferre said.

Grantaire looked up from his sketchbook, “What?”

“Enjolras is coming in half an hour.”

“Oh, yes. Right.”

Combeferre narrowed his eyes, “You’re not…regretting this, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“Because it’s kind of too late to back out. Eponine’s already brought all your stuff to Enjolras’ apartment.”

“What?”

Combeferre smiled, “Did you really think that you wouldn’t move in with him?”

“I…no, I’m not that stupid. I just…I…never mind.”

Combeferre patted Grantaire’s shoulder sympathetically.

“Give Enjolras a chance to prove he can do this. It’ll do you good.”

Grantaire was silent. Enjolras hadn’t done anything to prove that he was capable of caring for someone, let alone constantly watching them and keeping them out of trouble. He had done nothing to earn Grantaire’s faith in the matter, so why should he earn it now?

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” He muttered.

Combeferre seemed pleased enough with this. He probably took it as a sign of cooperation.

“I’ll come get you when Enjolras is here,” He said simply.

With that, and a final shoulder pat, Combeferre left Grantaire’s room. 

~

Enjolras came at exactly nine, which was great, because Grantaire had hoped he’d be, like, three hours late. Apparently, Enjolras didn’t do late. Combeferre had said once that punctuality was important to him.

“Remember, Enjolras agreed to do this. I didn’t bribe him or anything,” Combeferre said.

“Sure.”

Combeferre paused and sighed, “Just…be nice.”

“Your standards are too high.”

“The least you could do is try, Grantaire.”

“’Try’ is a strong word.”

Combeferre pushed Grantaire into the little waiting room by the front entrance and said, “Go.”

Grantaire was not prepared, because Enjolras was. Sitting. There. 

Just sitting there, reading a book. 

Grantaire couldn’t stand all the normality.

“I forgot how beautiful your hair looks in artificial lighting,” He said.

Enjolras looked up from his book, frowning, “Is that all you have to say to me?”

“No, there’s more, but I’m not so sure it’s stuff you’d appreciate hearing.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“Any time.”

“You ready to go?”

Grantaire rolled his eyes, “Of course I am.”

Enjolras didn’t reply. He just closed his book and led Grantaire out to the parking lot.

“Is that Plato?” Grantaire asked, nodding at the book.

“Socrates,” Enjolras corrected stiffly.

“University?”

“Fun.”

“Right.”

They got into Enjolras’ car in silence. Enjolras didn’t put the radio on- he just turned his gaze to the road and manoeuvered them away from the hospital. Grantaire cast a look of longing at it- although he wasn’t willing to admit it, he was going to miss the place. The sense of safety and care that came along with it, not the too-clean floors and padded walls.

“Are we just going to do this in silence?” He asked.

Enjolras’ grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“I don’t see anything we should talk about.”

“Maybe the fact that I’m a fucking vampire and you haven’t even acknowledged that?”

Grantaire regained his composure as Enjolras almost slammed the car into a road sign. They were both furious- Grantaire because he had been expecting a warmer welcome, and Enjolras for some reason he did not know.

Enjolras’ expression was completely blank as he spoke, “What do you want me to acknowledge about it, Grantaire? That you could kill me any second? I already know that, all right, I’ve done my research and I want to get this over with as much as you do.”

Grantaire shifted in the seat to make himself more comfortable and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to go through the ride in complete silence- it would kill him.

“Who says I want to get it over with?” He mumbled drowsily.

Enjolras didn’t reply.

**Author's Note:**

> Expect updates every few days or so. Comments are always appreciated. :)


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